


Crow on the Cradle

by PengyChan



Category: 999: Nine Hours Nine Persons Nine Doors - Fandom, Zero Escape (Video Games)
Genre: AU, Gen, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-22
Updated: 2013-02-22
Packaged: 2017-12-03 05:04:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,004
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/694472
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PengyChan/pseuds/PengyChan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Young Akane Kurashiki had proved herself to be capable of using the Morphogenetic fields like no other, and Hongou knew she would be the perfect subject for further experiments - once some adjustements were made.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Crow on the Cradle

**Author's Note:**

> This was supposed to be the premise for a longer fic, but I doubt I'll have the time to develop it further than this.
> 
> I got the idea when the game's creators said that there was the possibility Zero had planted fake memories in Seven and Snake's minds so that they'd tell the story they wanted about the outcome of the first Nonary Game: I wondered what may have happened had they not been the only ones to have the possibility to do just that - remove and modify people's memories - and this is the result.

For a few moments after they saw the door opening and the little girl rushing out of the incinerator, no one inside the room – a large, dimly lit room with monitors on all walls so that they could see every last corner of the whole ship – said a word.

Nagisa Nijisaki blinked at the monitor for a few more moments, then turned to the other; the girl was leaving her brother’s embrace – how had two siblings gotten in the same place? How could they be so careless? – and rushing to verify the bracelets. Somewhere on his left, Kubota cleared his throat.

“S-she… made it,” he said, sounding as though he couldn’t believe what he had just seen. Nijisaki turned to glance at him, and noticed that his skin was glossy with sweat. It looked like he had been sweating bullets, and Nijisaki couldn’t truly blame him: to be honest, he doubted there was anyone in the staff who had been _wanting_ to see the girl fail and burn alive. It was a risk they had been willing to run, that much was true, but not something they wouldn’t have rather avoided having to see… especially since they wanted the experiment to succeed.

“Yes, she made it,” Nijisaki murmured, then turned back to another monitor and frowned when he noticed that Gentarou Hongou had not moved from his spot: he was still outside the incinerator, his face pressed against the glass. What in the world…?

Nijisaki reached for the small transmitter he had in his pocket. “Hongou, show’s over. Get your ass over here, time’s almost up and we have to leave this ship before--”

“She made it,” Hongou’s voice cut him off. On the monitor, he was still motionless, staring inside the incinerator.

“Yes, we did take notice, and we have everything recorded. Now--”

“She was speaking, Nagisa. _Speaking_. The room was empty, and she was _speaking_ to someone. Do you realize what that means? _Do you_?”

If Hongou had sounded insane when the subjects had almost escaped – and damn, he had sounded absolutely insane – he sounded even worse now, as though in a frenzy; Nijisaki exchanged a worried glance with Kubota before speaking again.

“Listen, we’ll discuss of it at a later time. Now we--”

“Stop them.”

Nijisaki blinked. “What?”

“You heard me. The girl, she could tap into the fields like no one else! We cannot miss this opportunity for further experiments! Don’t let them leave!”

“Gen--”

“THAT’S AN ORDER!” Hongou screamed, causing Nijisaki to grimace.

“Fine, fine. Quit trying to shatter my drums,” he growled in the transmitter before turning to Kubota. “I take it you’re not volunteering,” he muttered.

Kubota gave a nervous laugh. “A-ah, no. R-really, no. I’ll be making sure we g-g-gather everything before l-leaving this d-damn ship. G-good luck.”

A sigh. “Go figure,” Nijisaki muttered before turning on his heels and gesturing for a few staff members to follow, mentally trying to figure out how where they should go to catch the kids and that damn detective by surprise.

Last thing he wanted was giving that mountain of a man a chance to react.

* * *

 

“This way, quick!”

The detective’s voice was loud as a thunder as they ran up the stairs; Akane had to wonder how could he shout like that while he was clearly out of breath – they all were, although it did little to slow them down. It didn’t slow them down _at all_ , really, because it didn’t matter whether it felt like their hearts and lungs would burst: all that matter was getting away from there, away from the incinerator, away from the ship, away from that horrible—

_demon_  
m _onster_  
 _Hongou  
_ _Ace_

—man who had forced her and the others into that sick game, and had _laughed_ in doing so, in telling her that she was going to burn alive and that it was going to be painful and--

A sudden scream, one that sounded much like a bear’s roar, and Aoi’s warning cry reached her ears the same moment he grabbed her arm and yanked her aside. Just on time, too, for just a moment later the detective stumbled backwards and collapsed on the stairs, rolling down a few steps before stilling; hadn’t Aoi yanked her and Light away, he would have fallen on them. Akane stared at his fallen form with wide eyes. Was he hurt? What had happened? Was he… what was that thing protruding from his neck?

“Ah!”

“SHIT!”

Light's gasp and Aoi’s cry snapped her from her confusion. She turned to see both of them staggering. Light fell on his back, while Aoi slunk on the step. “F-fuck…”

“Aoi!” she shrieked, kneeling beside him and grabbing his arm. “Aoi, no! We have to get out! Get up! Aoi! Light! AOI! You have to--”

And then she fell silent all of a sudden, because her brother had reached to take something off his side and throw it away and Akane could see it was a dart, and that its needle was still dripping with some liquid; it looked like the thing in the detective’s neck, like the one in Light’s leg, like… like…

 _Tranquilizer darts_.

The realization sank in the very same moment Aoi placed a hand on her shoulder and tried to push her away with the little strength he had left. “A… Aka… ne… go… run…”

Tears welled up in her eyes and streamed down her cheeks, still wet from her tears of terror in the incinerator and of joy afterwards. “No! No, no, no! Get up! Please! Don’t fall asleep! Get up!” she cried out, desperately trying to shake him. “Aoi! AOI!”

But Aoi didn’t hear her, couldn’t hear her, not anymore: his eyes closed and his head rolled on his shoulder.

“No! Wake up! Please, please, please! We’re so close, we’re so close!” Akane wailed, still trying to shake him into awareness. It couldn’t go that way! They had been through so much and she had thought she’d die and Junpei had saved and she was back in Aoi’s arms and they were escaping from that nightmare, so it couldn’t – it shouldn’t--!

“ _Please! Wake up!_ ”

“My, no need to make such a fuss. He’s only asleep. He’ll be fine when he wakes up; only a little groggy, perhaps, but fine.”

The voice that reached her ears through her own sobs was calm, collected and would have maybe sounded friendly hadn’t it been for the underlying coldness in it. Akane’s sob caught in her throat and she looked up; a few steps above her, only one step above the one Light had fallen onto, stood a man with long black hair and dark eyes. He was wearing a suit and tie, much like—

_Ace_  
 _Hongou_  
 _demon_  
 _monster  
_

—the man who had thrown her—

_to her death and laughed and laughed and laughed oh God that laugh she would never forget that **laugh**_

—into the incinerator earlier. This man didn’t, however, look crazed as he had been; he was calm, collected, almost businesslike. Akane couldn’t recall seeing him

_(she had a feeling she should know who it was, a feeling she had seen him or would see him or both)_

but his presence terrified her.

“Please,” she heard herself saying, her voice little more than pitiful mewing. “Please, let us out. We didn’t do anything… why… we won! We won your stupid game!” She was screaming now, her hands still clutching her brother’s sleeve. “We won! Let us out! Let us _out_!”

The man smiled. It was supposed to be a pleasant smile, or so Akane assumed, but it was so cold, so impersonal, and terrifying in its own way. “We will,” he said, his voice rotting honey. “You won the game, and fair’s fair. You will all leave – you, the detective, your brother, the blind boy… and all the others, of course. We already put them to sleep.”

Akane’s eyes widened, a horrible coldness spreading in her chest. “You… put them to…?” she stammered, half-tempted to scream and try to run – but Aoi was there and she couldn’t leave him behind, she _wouldn’t._

The man raised an eyebrow, as though taken aback by her reaction, then realization seemed to dawn on him and he gave an amused laugh. “What are you…? Oh, my. No, no, you got it all wrong,” he chuckled. “We put them to sleep quite literally. They truly are just sleeping, much like your brother and… Light, isn’t it? Just sleeping. As I said, we are going to let you leave; but we cannot let you do so while you’re awake, you know. You could lead the police straight to us if you knew where we are. You’ll wake up safe and close to civilization. It’s simple as that.”

Akane shut her eyes and stifled another sob. It was too much, both what has happened to her and what she had seen through Junpei’s eyes in some kind of future, all the terror and blood and death – it was just _too much_ , and she wanted it to be over with, she wanted to sleep and wake up safe far away from there with her brother by her side. She wanted to believe him because what else could she do but hope he was telling the truth? She was just a child, and he was a grown man and she had nowhere to go – she couldn’t go and leave her brother there. There was nothing she could do now, _nothing_ : she could only hope he was telling the truth.

“I want to go home,” was all she finally managed to choke out, trying to dry her tears before looking up at him. “Please.”

The man’s expression seemed to change for just an instant, features softening and mouth twitching. But maybe it had been only an impression, for the next moment he smiled at her once more, calm and collected and professional.

“You don’t have to worry. You’ll be fine. You won, after all, and fair’s fair,” he said, and pulled out something he had been holding in his hand the whole time without her even noticing – a syringe. He stepped down, closer to her, and she instinctively huddled closer to her brother’s still body.

“It will only prickle, don’t worry,” the man said, crouching down in front of her and holding out his other hand. “Give me your arm. You’ll be asleep in just moments, and you and your brother will be far away from here when you wake up.”

Akane swallowed, hard, and didn’t move. She half-expected the man to reach out to grab her arm with force, much like Hongou—

_Ace_  
 _monster  
_ _demon_

—had done, but he did not: he just stayed still with his hand held out, palm up, and spoke quietly. “There is a bomb in this ship, Akane, and time’s almost up. We have to hurry up to get all of you and ourselves into the safe boats,” he said, glancing briefly at Aoi before looking back at her, straight in her eyes.

“I…” she choked back a sob. “How do I know you won’t leave us here to drown?”

A sigh. “You don’t, I’m afraid. “I know you have no reason at all to trust me, but you truly have no choice. Give me your arm. You’ll be alright.”

And she did, because there was no choice, _no choice_ , and again she could only hope for the best. Her left hand still clutching Aoi’s sleeve tightly, she held out her right arm, the one _he_ had grabbed when he had shoved her into the incinerator. In her hand she still held the doll Jumpei had given her.

_Jumpy where are you can you hear me now please help me help me **help me** \--_

But this time he wasn’t there, this time no one reached out for her. The man simply reached to pull up her sleeve and, then there was a prickling sensation on the inside of her arm

_(he hadn’t lied about that, it truly was only a prickle and nothing more)_

and everything began reeling and spinning and darkening in front of her eyes. She let out a whimper and retreated her arm, the doll falling from her slackened grip. She slumped against Aoi’s side, and saw the man

_(his name what was his name she felt like she should have known it)_

picking the doll up and looking at it with a puzzled expression on his face. “What in the world are you doing with a voodoo doll?” he asked, confusion clear in his voice.

“Jumpy,” she rasped. “Give me… give it… Jumpy… _Jumpy_ …”

He looked back up at her, and a moment later, as her vision began fading, she felt it being pressed back against her hand. Her fingers closed around it tightly.

“Here’s your doll,” she heard his voice saying, but it was so distant now, so faint. “It will be alright. Sleep now. Shhh. Sleep.”

Akane closed her eyes and everything was dark, and that darkness opened up to swallow her, and she fell in it and she knew nothing more.

* * *

 

Teruaki Kubota, executive technical supervisor of Cradle Pharmaceutical, was nervous.

That wasn't anything new since that was pretty much his usual state of mind, his emotional spectrum varying from uneasiness to complete nervous breakdown. Still, Nijisaki had come to know it was a rare occurrence seeing him that nervous when Hongou was pleased, for as far as Kubota seemed to be concerned Hongou was the best, Hongou knew everything, and as long as he stuck to Hongou's instructions and Hongou was pleased with how things were going then everything was alright and nothing could go wrong, no, no _way_.

And yet he was currently a nervous, shaking wreck even though Hongou was very, _very_ pleased. Not that Nijisaki was very surprised, because even he – someone far more jaded than Kubota had ever been – had to repress a small shiver when he saw Hongou looking down at the sleeping girl on the hospital bed. He was smiling, but his smile was completely wrong, and his gaze was so _hungry_.

_Grandmother, what sharp teeth you have!_

_The better to eat you with, my child._

Nijisaki chased away the childish thought and cleared his throat to get Hongou's attention. “What _is_ it you have in mind now?”

The other man recoiled before turning to look at him. He was still smiling, eyes crazed, and seemed almost feverish. Beside Nijisaki, Kubota released a shaky breath before busying himself smoothing his lab coat.

Hongou didn't answer to his question. “Are they done with the others?”

Nijisaki nodded. “Yes. The children's memories and those of the detective have been wiped off,” he said, though knowing that was an improper term, for memories could not be wiped off. They could only be... locked away from consciousness, where they could not reach to take them back. It was quite miraculous what technology allowed them to do, but Hongou had always resented that for some reason, bitterly saying it was a joke how they could learn how to take information from human mind and not how to plant it in it.

“They won't remember a thing of what happened.”

“What of the girl's brother? Did you follow my instructions?”

“Of course. When Aoi Kurashiki will wake up, he'll have lost his sister years ago in the same accident that killed their parents. If now you could let us know what in the world you're planning--”

Hongou silenced him with a wave of his hand.

“Later,” he said coldly, then he turned to Kubota - who winced - and gestured to the still sleeping girl. “She's next. Tell them to bring her into the operation room immediately. Her last memory has to be her parents _and_ brother’s death in the accident. Is that clear?”

Kubota nodded quickly. “S-sure,” he said before turning and walking out quickly, clearly glad to have an excuse not to be in the same room as Hongou. Nijisaki watched him go for a few moments, then turned back to look at the child. She was still holding her doll.

“You’re planning on using her for further experiments, aren’t you?”

Hongou smiled again, and for the second time Nijisaki almost shivered. “Yes,” was the reply. Hongou took another step towards the bed and looked down at the child, looming over her. “She’s a prodigy, Nagisa. She could literally _speak_ with someone who wasn’t there, and receive the information. She was meant for Building Q, was she not?”

Already knowing all too well that whoever of their underlings had been responsible for that mix-up – putting a transmitter along with the receivers in the Gigantic and a receiver in Building Q along with the transmitters – was going to pay dearly, Nijisaki nodded. “Yes.”

“And yet she could make it out,” Hongou muttered. “She could reach out, give _and_ receive information so much better than any other subject. It’s incredible. It’s _perfect_. She’s the ideal subject.”

Rather than sharing his enthusiasm, Nijisaki frowned a little. “That makes me wonder, though. Her brother was stuck outside the incinerator, and there was no one she had a bond with in Building Q, so--” he trailed off when Hongou made a gesture to silence him, as though swatting away an annoying fly.

“That hardly matters,” he said. “We already knew that knowledge could be passed through the Morphogenetic fields even between people who don’t even know each other. A bond between people can make the connection stronger and more likely to happen, but it’s not necessary – and this one didn’t need it, apparently,” he added with yet another sick smile. “But of course, a little help is always good. And it will be everything so much easier if she won’t fight every step of the way…”

Something in Hongou’s voice sounded wrong – even more than usual. Nijisaki bit his lower lip before speaking again. “What _is_ it you’re planning?”

Hongou didn’t answer right away: he stayed silent for almost a whole minute before speaking, eyes still fixed on the sleeping child, like those of a lion looking down at a wounded gazelle.

“I want her to try her best, to use her abilities at their full extent without discussion every time I ask her to. I want this little monkey to _want_ to help me, just as much as she would have wanted to help her damn brother had be been inside the incinerator instead of her!”

Nijisaki’s eyes widened a little, everything finally clicking into place. “So you want her memories to be changed because… you want her to…?”

“Yes! She’s the key, Nijisaki, the cure I’ve been looking for! A bond, you say? There will be one, I assure you – I’ll _create_ one!”

And then Hongou threw back his head and laughed and laughed and _laughed_ , and the sheer insanity in it was enough to make Nijisaki step back and Akane shift in her sleep, her eyebrow knitting into a frown for just a moment and her grip on her door tightening – but she did not wake up, not yet.

And a great part of her never would.

* * *

 

"Are you ready to go, Akane?”

The little girl nodded, holding her doll

_(it was a present, a present from someone, maybe her brother or parents but she didn’t remember, she only knew it was a present and it was important)_

close to her chest before reaching up to take the nurse’s hand. The woman smiled down at her and gave her hand a reassuring squeeze.

“You look so cute with that new dress, you know,” the nurse said, leading her out of the room and to the elevator. “It’s really pretty.”

Akane smiled up at her, her cheeks reddening a little at the compliment. She had been in the clinic for some time

_(because she was hurt after the accident where her family had died and needed time to heal and something was wrong with her memory, too, because she could barely remember them, but it kept her from being too sad so maybe it was for the best)_

and had only worn hospital gowns for some time. Then there had been presents: someone had bought her clothes and toys and had them delivered into her room, more clothes and toys than she could remember ever seeing

_(but she couldn’t remember much anyway)_

but she didn’t know who it was, why they were being so nice to her, why didn’t they show up so that she could thank them. She had asked and asked, and in the end the nurse had told her that they were from someone who owned the clinic, someone who had been covering all expenses for her and who was going to show up soon, as soon as she felt better and could leave the hospital.

And today was the day.

Akane’s heart beat just a little faster when she and the nurse reached the hospital’s entrance. Her eyes darted from person to person while she tried to guess who her benefactor may be, but she didn’t have to look for long, for the nurse called out – “Mr. Hongou!” – and a tall, elegant man wearing a suit and tie turned in their direction.

Akane looked up in awe as he walked closer and gave the nurse a polite nod to dismiss her before looking down at her. His expression stayed unreadable for a few moments, then he smiled down at her.

 “Hello, Akane. I’m Gentarou Hongou,” he said, voice gentle and pleasantly deep. He glanced at her dress – the one he had bought her, one of the many – and smiled again. “My, don’t you look lovely in that dress.”

She bit her lower lip and blushed. “I… thank you,” she said a little shyly. “And… thank you for… everything.”

The man – Mr. Hongou – chuckled.

“You’re quite welcome. I know it will never be enough to make up for what you lost; I am truly sorry for what happened to your family.”

For some reason that simple statement stung, it truly _stung_. Akane had barely been able to cry for them

_(she remembered so little and it was wrong, she was supposed to remember, why couldn’t she remember?)_

but now that someone else mentioned them grief hit her all at once, and she felt so lost

_(she had woken up in the clinic and she knew no one and she was all alone and could remember so little and she was so lost)_

and tears welled up in her eyes against her own will, blurring her vision. She closed her eyes to clear it, and felt them sliding down her cheeks.

“I… I’m sorry,” she sniffled, clumsily reaching up to dry her face. “I… I woke up and they were _gone_ , and I was alone and… and…”

“I know,” she heard Mr. Hongou saying gently, crouching down and brushing his thumb across her cheeks to dry the tears that had escaped her. “I know.”

Akane drew in a shaky breath. “You… do?” she asked, her voice small.

Mr. Hongou paused, and seemed to ponder on her question for a few moments. “You could say I know something about being lonely, yes,” he finally said slowly, then reached into the breast pocket of his suit to pull out a handkerchief. He handed it to her. “It will get better. You’ll be fine. I’ll be looking after you from now on,” he paused, as though unsure, then, “if you want me to.”

And she did, she really did, because she was alone and he was alone and she was   _lost_ , and he had been kind to her and was willing to look after her now that she had nobody left.

Overwhelmed as she was, Akane did not notice how Hongou had stiffened for a moment when she had thrown her arms around his neck; and, with her face pressed against his shoulder, she could not see the twisted smirk of triumph that curled his lips one moment before he reached to hold her back.


End file.
